


One Way Or Another

by chipmunk94



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, Reference to kidnapping, reference to physical parental discipline, reference to prisoner abuse and torture, s03e02 Two Daughters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5970322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipmunk94/pseuds/chipmunk94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Episode tag to season 3 episode 2, Two Daughters:</p><p>For Don Eppes, the line in the sand has always been firmly drawn, but when one of his agents is kidnapped by a known fugitive, that line will be erased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Way Or Another

The entire floor watched Buck Winters walk out of the elevator, a correctional officer on each elbow. He wasn’t intimidating; he was fairly small, unmuscular with short blond hair. More than one person could see their own son in him. There were quiet reminders, that the seventeen year old had murdered his own father, how he’d married his high school English teacher and they’d murdered their way across state lines. How, when he was caught, she’d gone after a member of Agent Eppes’ team, seeking revenge. A regular Bonnie and Clyde story. There were quiet whispers of concern for Eppes, about how hard he was taking this, about how he would be able to convince a headstrong seventeen year old boy to give up the woman he thought he was in love with. 

The subject of the office gossip, Don Eppes paced in the break room where Ian had dragged him, convincing the head agent that letting the boy cool his heels for a little while would help. Ian watched silently, his steady, hawk like gaze irritating Don until he wanted to throw something at the calm man. How dare he act like nothing was wrong when it felt like Don was drowning, clammy hands pulling him under salty waves. Ian broke the silence.

“He won’t give her up, Eppes.” 

“Well, what do you expect me to do, Ian?” Don twisted on his heel, gesturing broadly with his arms; a can of sweetener hit the ground, knocked off by his movement. Both agents ignored it. “Hoyle has Megan and we both know what that woman is capable of. If we don’t get a break before six…” Don looked away, running his hand over his jaw. He’d been in a similar position once before, when he and Billy Cooper had walked into an ambush in Fugitive Recovery. Coop had ended up on his knees with a gun digging into his temple, surrounded by a group of men armed with automatic weapons, some pointed at him, some pointed outside of the circle, waiting for the leftover FBI agent to come to his rescue. Sometimes, Don woke up in a cold sweat after a dream that detailed all the ways that could have gone wrong.

“I know.” Ian watched Don, gauging him with dark eyes. “You know, when I was a kid, whenever I got into trouble, my mom would always threaten to tan my hide. Never did it though. I always figured it was just empty words, her trying to keep an ornery boy in line. But one day, I messed up real bad. Got caught throwing rocks at a neighbors window. My mom pulled me out back, looked in my eyes and told me she was going to beat me with her bare hands. You know what I did?” 

“Ian, what is—”

“I laughed at her.” Ian talked louder over Don’s words, stirring his lukewarm coffee. “She’d threatened me with the same thing so many times that I didn’t believe her. But would you believe it, she pulled me behind the house, told me to drop my pants and swatted me until I was crying. You better believe, I never doubted her again.”

Don stared at Ian. “You know, that was a great story, Ian, really, I love that little glimpse into your childhood, but could you tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

Ian tossed the coffee straw into the garbage and turned back to Don. “You can bluff all you want, but sometimes, you’ve gotta follow through.” 

Don stopped in his pacing to look at the tracker. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed into a squint. “You’re saying that I should—”

“You want your agent back right?” Don stayed silent and Ian continued. “You were in Fugitive Recovery. I know you boys weren’t always Boy Scouts. You had to do things that Uncle Sam might not be too proud of. But you did them because you had to.”

“What you’re talking about is more than just ignoring the chain of evidence, more than just kicking in doors without a warrant. You’re talking about assault, going after someone who can’t fight back.” Don clenched his jaw and looked away. His gaze fell on his team, what was left of it, David and Colby huddled around Megan’s desk arguing. Colby glanced away, straight at Don and frowned before turning back to David and snapping something that made the other man step back with a scowl. Don looked away, back at Ian who was watching him steadily, drinking his bitter coffee without a grimace. 

“She’ll kill her, won’t she.” It wasn’t a question and Ian didn’t deign to answer, simply stood there, sipping his drink. Don looked away again, at the interrogation room where he knew Buck Winters was sitting, handcuffed, wondering why he’d been dragged out of holding and back down here. A handcuffed seventeen year old prisoner, under Don’s charge. And Megan…Don shut his eyes, squeezing them tightly until spots exploded in the blackness. He opened them again with a sigh and looked at Ian. “I can’t do that. That goes against…” He bit his lip and looked away. He was condemning Megan to death because of his damn morals.

“You’re a good man, Don,” Ian said quietly, dropping his coffee cup into the garbage can. “But I’m not. The line that’s drawn so firmly for you, I erased it a long time ago.”

Don pinched the bridge of his nose. He remembered a conversation he’d had with his mom, a long, long time ago, when cancer was just this weird word they’d learned in science class. It had been after he’d punched Danny Carter in the nose for stealing his baseball. She had scolded him and told him, “Violence is never the answer, Donny.” And he’d been grounded for two weeks. 

But his mom wasn’t here. She’d been dead for four years and he had an agent who was going to go the same way unless he did something to stop it. And even Charlie, with all his smarts and math skills, couldn’t solve their way out of this one.

“Let me talk to him first,” There was no give in Don’s quiet voice. Ian’s expression didn’t give away any of his thoughts. He just nodded quietly and followed Don out of the break room. 

“Any news?” Don stopped in front of Colby’s desk. The younger agent glanced up and shook his head, setting the phone back into the cradle. 

“Nothing,” he said, standing up. He nodded towards the interrogation room. Buck was sitting in the chair, slouched down. The handcuffs on his wrist glinted when the light struck them. He was ignoring all movement outside the room. “Do you really think he’s going to tell us where Crystal Hoyle is?”

“Yeah, I do,” Don said, not taking his eyes off the boy. As if Buck had felt his gaze, the prisoner looked up and glanced around, gaze flickering as though searching for someone. “One way or another.”  
Colby looked sharply at Don, shooting glances between his boss and Ian who was watching silently with his arms crossed. “Don…”

“You should leave,” Don interrupted, watching Buck lower his head in disinterest. “Whatever happens, you shouldn’t be involved.”

“Don, I was in Afghanistan. Nothing you do will surprise me.” Colby shook his head, looking worried despite his words. “But are you sure you know what you’re doing? Stuff like this, it comes back to haunt you.”

“If it gets Megan back, damn right I’m sure,” Don snapped, walking to the room and shoving the door open roughly. Buck jumped to his feet, startled and watched Don warily.

Colby watched Don pace around the boy, closing the blinds, drawing the attention of the other agents in the office. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and glancing over at Edgerton. 

“You know what you’re doing, man?”

“Oh, yeah, I know what I’m doing.” Ian didn’t look away from Don. Colby turned back to the glass room.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”


End file.
